Rough & Rowdy (Notorious Devils #1) (5 page)

“Fuck, so tight,” he groans from above me, his hands shifting from beside my head to tangle in my hair — pulling it tightly in his grip.

“More,” I plead.

My pleading word is like waving red in front of a raging bull. Fury slowly glides out of me completely before he slams back inside. His hands in my hair are pulling my head back so far, my neck is arched toward him and my breasts are smashed against his strong chest.

I’m completely paralyzed—frozen by his weight pressing against me.

I love the way he has control. I should be scared, but I’m not. It feels too good, and I feel too safe in his arms to be anything but turned on.

“Cunt’s so good, sugar,” he moans as he continues to roughly piston his cock in and out of me.

He’s rough and rowdy.

The pain and pleasure are amplified with each thrust of his strong hips, bringing me higher and higher toward my climax.

“Please, Fury,
please
,” I beg as my body climbs, so close to my release.

“Soon,” he growls as he slides to his knees, one of his hands leaving my hair to wrap tightly around my hip. “Baby, love watching those fat tits bounce,” he mumbles, his eyes focused on my breasts as they sway with each plunge of his cock.

I gasp when he pulls completely out of me and flips me onto my stomach. I try to move to my hands and knees, but Fury’s hand wraps around the back of my neck and pins me to the bed. His other hand wraps around my hip, pulling my bottom half in the air. His hand slides around my hip, and I feel his fingers press against my clit before he slams back inside of me from behind.

I close my eyes in sweet relief, knowing that soon,
soon
…
I’ll explode
.

His hold on my neck is firm, pinning me into place as I accept everything he’s giving me. It’s the first time I have ever been pinned down, held down, and roughly fucked.

My pussy throbs from his relentless thrusts.

I hear his soft grunts from behind me and feel his fingers pressing against my clit. I inhale and accept —
everything
.

I have never felt so desired or so beautiful in my entire life.

My breath hitches before I involuntarily scream, my climax rushing through me like a freight train. I come long and I come hard, light bursting behind my eyes, my body shaking beneath him.

A second later, I hear Fury roar above me, and his cock twitches. I feel spurts of his release fill my body.

“Never want out of this cunt,” Fury murmurs as he continues to lazily slide in and out of my body.

I feel his chest press against my back, his lips nuzzling and kissing the crook of my neck.

“Fury,” I groan once he stops moving.

He stays planted inside of me, on top of my body.

“Babe,” he responds.

“You didn’t use anything,” I mention, suddenly realizing that this could be bad.

This could be really bad
.

My heart starts to race and I feel sweat beading up on my skin. I have no clue how many women this guy’s been with, never mind the fact that he could have gotten me
pregnant
.

“You’re clean. I’m clean. Never want to fuck you anyway but bareback,” he grunts into my neck.

I try to move, but his big body still has me pinned to the mattress. I feel his hand slide from my clit to wrap around my waist as his other hand goes from around the back of my neck to fist in my hair. I gasp when he pulls my head back and turns it slightly, his eyes narrowing on me.

“The fuck?” he asks, looking pissed.

I fight everything inside of me not to melt at the beauty of his gray eyes and his gorgeous face, so close to mine.

“Get off of me,” I grind out between clenched teeth.

“Not leavin’ this cunt anytime soon, babe,” he announces. I feel my face heat.

“I’m not on anything, you asshole,” I snip.

Fury is looking at me like a beautiful, pissed off, god of a man. A beautiful, pissed off, god of a man that has no damn right to be pissed off –
at all
. He finally chooses to pull out of me and stands up. I roll over onto my back, grabbing my sheet and pulling it over my naked breasts.

“Then you’ll get that pill they’re always talking about, and then you’ll get on
the
pill,” he announces as he plants his fists on his hips.

I stare at him, jaw agape.
This asshole cannot be fucking serious with me right now.

“I don’t believe in the morning after pill,” I say. He grunts before he responds.

“What’s
not
to believe? You take it and it takes care of
it
,” he mutters.

“You need to leave,” I say quietly.

“The fuck?” he asks, looking genuinely confused.

If I wasn’t so pissed, I might laugh at the look on his handsome face.

“You fucked me with no protection, and then you expect me to compromise my morals, because you fucked up?
Get out of my house
,” I say, a bit firmer.

“Crazy bitch,” he bites out, sliding his jeans up his hips.

“I’m not the one fucking girls with no protection,
asshole
,” I grind out as I stand and walk over to his stupid leather vest thing.

I take it in my hand and shove it against his chest as soon as he slides his shirt over his head.

“Should have stayed with the club whores instead of trying to deal with a civilian, princess cunt,” he grumbles.

I watch as he finishes getting dressed.

“Yeah, maybe you should be fucking whores—bitches who don’t give a shit about silly little things like protection.”

I’ve had it.

He takes a step toward me and tangles his fingers in my hair, wrenching my head back, arching my neck, and forcing my eyes to meet his.

“You’re a crazy fuckin’ bitch, you know that?” he mutters, his eyes focused on mine.

“I must be if I let you inside me,” I retort childishly.

“Still want to fuck you, though,” he murmurs as his lips crash down onto mine.

I struggle against him for a moment, but then succumb to his kiss. I refuse to open my mouth for him, though. He slides his tongue over my lips, but I resist — hardest resistance of my damn life.

“Get out or I’ll call the police,” I whisper once he breaks away from me. I have to give the warning. If I don’t, if he doesn’t leave, I’ll lie back down and spread my legs for him again.

“
You’re a
Crazy fucking cunt
,” he growls. He walks away from me, slamming my front door behind him.

I listen for his motorcycle’s rumble before I sink to the floor of my room, in nothing but the sheet wrapped around my body.

I cry
.

I am such an idiot. Such a fool. I slept with a stranger, a complete stranger. I talked myself into some kind of illusion that he was good, that he was safe. In reality, he was a fucking asshole, like every other man.

I didn’t matter to him. Not really. Just my body. Why would I matter to him, anyway? I’m just some stupid girl who spread her legs as soon as he pointed those gorgeous gray eyes her way. He could have whoever he wanted, and for a night, he wanted me. He’ll probably never think of me again, and I’ll do nothing but regret the one time I decided to throw caution to the wind.

I am such a naïve idiot.

I cry myself to sleep on the floor, and that is where I stay until Monday morning rolls around.

The following week goes by in a haze. I half expect to have Fury barrel through my office or my home. But he doesn’t. By the end of the week, I’ve given up on ever seeing him again. He got what he wanted and he didn’t want anymore.

Just like Jason.

It’s me. I’m not worth keeping around.

Kentlee

I
t’s been two weeks since I made Fury leave my home. I haven’t heard a word from him. Every single time the front door opens at work, I look up, holding my breath in hopes that it’s him.

Why do I still want him?

What is wrong with me that I want this rough man?

I want his lips on mine, and I want to hear his dirty words whispered in my ear. I want him to pin me down, immobilize me, and fuck me until i scream.
I’m so screwed up
.

“What’s up with you, girl?” Marcy asks one day after coming back from her lunch.

“Nothing,” I murmur as I pretend to be busy.

“You’ve been sulking for two weeks. Tell me,” she urges. I shake my head and plaster on a fake smile.

“I’m good, I swear,” I say brightly.

“You’re a shit liar,” she chuckles, walking away from me.

I pick up my phone and contemplate calling Brentlee to tell her about my man troubles. It would be nice to have someone to talk to.

Marcy is friendly, but I don’t know her well enough to know if she’d keep quiet or blab my problems around town.

I sigh and turn back to my work.

I need some girlfriends.

Fury

Another bottle of Jack and another blow job from Kitty.

My days are melting together.

I still want the little blonde secretary. I still want Kentlee. I close my eyes, relishing in the spinning feeling I have going on, and think about her.

It’s been three weeks since I’ve laid eyes on her. Three weeks since I’ve been inside of her. Yet, my memory of her isn’t fading, no matter how much I drink, or how many times Kitty sucks my cock dry. It’s always Kentlee in my thoughts. Always Kentlee’s face I see before I pass out. Just her.

How this bitch got under my skin after one fuck, I have no goddamned clue. The only think I know is that I want her under my body again, soon. I pass out thinking about how her skin tasted, wanting her again.

The next morning, I wake in a shitty mood, like I have every morning for the past three weeks.

“What’s wrong with you, you surly bastard?” Dirty Johnny asks me with a frown.

“Nothin’,” I grumble, pouring myself a cup of coffee. It probably tastes like fuckin’ shit, but I need something for my pounding fuckin’ head.

“That bitch get under your skin?” he chuckles. I narrow my eyes on him. “She’s a hot piece, brother. I get it.”

“You don’t know shit,” I grunt.

“Yeah, I don’t know a fuckin’ thing,” he says before he flips me off and walks away.

Fuck that asshole. He doesn’t know what he’s talking about, even if he’s semi-right. Kentlee is a hot piece and she’s under my skin, but not just because of her hot, wet cunt. No, it’s also because she took what I gave and fuckin’ loved it. But then she got in my face when I pissed her off. Made me hard, then wounded my pride when she didn’t immediately back down.

Kentlee is going to take effort. I’m not sure I want to put in that kind of work on a side bitch. I want soft and sweet, but I don’t want to be questioned. Kentlee is going to question the fuck out of me and test my patience.

But I want her.

I want her to take me as I am. Take what I can give and not give me any shit.

I walk outside to my bike and straddle it. I need a long ride.

An hour later, I end up downtown, watching Kentlee’s office. When she walks out for her lunch break, she takes my breath away. Her blonde hair is down and sleek, her skirt tight on her hips, encasing her thick ass and thighs.
Fuck, I want in there — right now.

It takes everything inside of me not to march across the street and fuck her on the sidewalk for the world to see.

Instead, I watch her. I watch her ass sway as she goes into a little café and sits down with her phone in her hand.

Then, I leave.

She doesn’t need me in her life, fuckin’ shit up. But I’ll probably do it anyway. I want her. I can’t stop thinking about her and I’ve never not taken what I want. I’ll leave her alone for now, but when she least expects it I’m taking her again.

Kentlee

I predicted it.

I knew this was what was going to happen.

No way a man that big, that burly, that fucking
manly
wouldn’t have
super sperm
, too. Dr. Parker confirms it for me with a sad smile and a shake of his head. I should have gone to the free clinic or something, but I didn’t feel like I could trust a free clinic with my body.

Dr. Parker has been my doctor since the day I turned eighteen. He is a kind, older man who is not only my doctor, but Brentlee and my mother’s, as well. His wife is best friends with my mother, and I can only hope that he keeps his doctor-patient confidentiality just that,
confidential—
and that he doesn’t tell his wife, or my mother.

“I want to see you back here in four weeks, Kentlee,” he says softly, breaking me out of my mental freak out.

“Four weeks, okay,” I shrug, agreeing.

My head is foggy and I feel both nauseous and dizzy all at the same time.

“The father…” he begins. I shake my head.

“There isn’t one,” I confess. He smirks at me, his eyes still sad.

“So just like Mary, this was an immaculate conception? Shall we call the Pope then?” he says, trying to joke.

I can’t joke right now —
nothing is funny.

“It doesn’t matter who the father is,” I correct. He looks at me, disappointment clearly etched in his features.